


Magnifique

by foxxing (gayfantasticfour)



Category: GOT7
Genre: (not sure how to tag that), ????????, A BDAY PRESENT THAT GOT WILDLY OUT OF HAND, Canon!Universe, Drinking, Just porn no plot, M/M, Mild Angst, PWP, Rough Sex, bare backing, dominant!jb, jealous!jb, the word 'slut' is used a few times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7187108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfantasticfour/pseuds/foxxing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaebum doesn't realize he's jealous...that is, until they go to the club after weeks of schedules and Jinyoung decides to dance with someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnifique

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to the unequivocal love of my life, my constant inspiration and role model, [Michele](http://www.twitter.com/xiucro). ♡
> 
>  
> 
> [If you're interested, here's what I listened to while working on this.](http://i.imgur.com/n48dPLg.jpg)

They’ve been working their asses off non-stop for weeks, so when they’re all piled together on the living room couch and Jackson loudly suggests they go to the club and get drunk, no one disagrees. 

Jaebum isn’t really one for going to the club that often--he’s not a huge fan of crowds, and the seven of them going to a club on a weekend is just asking for trouble, but the last few weeks have been so exhausting that not even  _ he  _ is opposed to going. After working non-stop, practicing until he passes out, and constantly fighting with Jinyoung for some reason, Jaebum realizes he could  _ definitely  _ use the distraction of alcohol, music that is way too loud, and losing himself in a sea of bodies.

It’s not like he’s never fought with Jinyoung before--they’ve known each other for something like seven years, and always being in each other’s space meant fighting had been inevitable. Most of it had been brotherly, sometimes a little bit more so; Jinyoung, despite being so warm and emotional, can be almost as stoic and closed off as he can, and sometimes their fights took on a meaning that was clear to Jinyoung but was, and always has been, lost on Jaebum. So the fighting isn’t new, but the silence is: Jinyoung has barely talked to him, always shying away from having a conversation or just flat out ignoring him. It feels different than the times they’ve fought before, Jinyoung always giving off an air of distinct anger, his answers short and clipped. Jaebum hadn’t even really been aware that they were  _ in  _ a fight, until one day he’d yelled at Jinyoung in the practice room in front of everyone for messing up the choreography, accusing him of being distracted and throwing everyone off. When he’d slammed out of the practice room and shut himself up in his bedroom, Jaebum had realized that maybe Jinyoung really  _ is  _ mad at him. But, for the life of him, he can’t think of what he could have done. 

Jaebum looks over to where Jinyoung is draped across Yugyeom, one arm around the youngest boy’s shoulders and their heads leaned together. He keeps looking at him, as though he’s hoping Jinyoung will look over for some reason, and he feels weird when Jinyoung continues to studiously ignore him.

“Where should we go?” Mark asks, head in Jackson’s lap and his legs stretched across Youngjae and Bambam. It’s barely five in the evening, so they have plenty of time to think of somewhere to go. There’s a ton of clubs downtown that they could probably get away with going to without being recognized by a million people.

Jaebum looks away from Jinyoung, chest tightening with annoyance, and watches as Jackson shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not from here.” Jackson looks at him. “Hyung? Any ideas?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know either. I don’t go to a lot of clubs.” His eyes slide to Jinyoung again, who is now inspecting his nails. It might be a little irrational of him, but watching Jinyoung purposefully pretend like he’s not in the room is starting to piss him off a little bit. 

“Jinyoung-ah,” he says, feeling a bit antagonistic now. “What are some good clubs downtown?”

Jinyoung continues to inspect his nails for a moment, turning his hand over palm down and spreading his fingers. The silence that follows is a little awkward, and from the corner of his eye he sees Mark and Jackson look at each other with matching expressions of  _ yikes, this is uncomfortable.  _ Jaebum is about to say something to them when Jinyoung finally looks up, but he looks at Jackson as though he’d been the one to ask him. Jaebum feels his temper flare.

“Ace?” He lets his hand fall into his lap. “The 2PM hyungs go there a lot, they’ve told me it’s nice and they don’t get bothered really.”

Youngjae nods in excitement. “Chansung hyung was telling me about it just the other day. Let’s go there!” 

Jackson looks around at all of them like he’s waiting for another suggestion, but everyone seems on board. Jaebum is annoyed but doesn’t disagree, shrugging one shoulder lazily when Jackson looks at him for confirmation. Slapping a hand down on Mark’s stomach, Jackson announces, “that’s it then. Everyone go get ready--we’re going to Ace.”

  
  


Between the seven of them and their measly two bathrooms, it takes a couple of hours for everyone to get ready. Jaebum hears Jinyoung ask everyone if they’re going  to dress up or not, and everyone answers except Jaebum, who just stays sitting on the couch. Most of them do dress up--they’re a sight to see, the five other boys dressed in varying shades of black with pops of color here and there. Jaebum eventually goes to his room to change into something a little more club appropriate, throwing on his tightest pair of dark jeans with rips through the knees and all the way up the thighs to the pockets. He’s going to wear a nice shirt when he remembers how annoying Jinyoung had been about asking everyone except him if they’re going to dress up, so he grabs a dark blue Adidas track jacket from his closet and zips it all the way up to the neck. Slipping into his sneakers and pulling a snapback on backward, he makes his way back to the couch to watch the rest of the boys maneuver around each other as they get ready. Make-up is borrowed, clothes swapped, outfits inspected and graded as though they’re all going to get laid later. The only one noticeably absent from the flurry is Jinyoung, and Jaebum tries not to think about it.

Finally the six of them are ready and standing around in the living room, the five other boys in their outfits looking like a harem of vampires. Decked out in an abundance of black and leather, the chrome buckles on their jackets and belts glint off the light from the living room.

Bambam taps a leather-clad booted foot impatiently. “Where’s Jinyoung?”

Jaebum’s head turns away from the rest of the group when he hears Jinyoung’s voice coming down the hallway: “I’m right here.” 

He wonders if anyone else’s heart stops for a moment when Jinyoung steps out from the dark of the hallway into the light. Jinyoung’s not even looking directly at them, face illuminated by the screen of his phone where he’s typing on it, but even so Jaebum can see the heavy eyeliner smudged expertly at the corners of Jinyoung’s eyes. Jaebum isn’t really sure what compels him to do it, but he glances down at Jinyoung’s body and regrets it a little bit when he sees what the younger boy is wearing: the tight leather pants from their Japan tour that he’d been desperate to keep, the material decked out in zippers that criss cross on the thighs, and a sleeveless shirt made out of moderately-knit black mesh. The arm holes are cut down to his ribs, showing off miles of tan, unmarked skin. Jaebum blanches a little bit when he realizes that Jinyoung isn’t wearing an undershirt, his entire torso visible through the loose sides of the shirt  _ and  _ through the material. 

Jinyoung finally looks up, sliding his phone in his pocket. His dark, heavily lined eyes slide over Jaebum for a moment, the look in them unreadable when they meet Jaebum’s. Jinyoung looks like he’s going to say something to him, his mouth parting a bit, but then he tears his eyes away and looks at the rest of the boys standing behind him.

“Are you ready, your Highness?” Jackson asks playfully, and Jaebum resents the genuine smile that pulls up on Jinyoung’s face. 

“Yes, I am,” he says, coming forward, eyes meeting Jaebum’s for just a moment as he passes before looking away again. Jaebum’s stomach turns and then grows hot with irritation.

As they’re walking down to the car, watching Jinyoung freely hang off the other boys and talk and laugh with them and completely ignore him finally makes him snap. “Jinyoung-ah,” he says, voice lazily taunting, and Jinyoung looks over his shoulder at him warily before turning back to keep whispering in Mark’s ear as he hangs off his shoulder while they walk. 

“Jinyoung-ah,” he repeats. “Is that really what you’re wearing?” 

Jinyoung doesn’t answer him, just continuing to talk to Mark, who glances back at Jaebum a little nervously. The chatter from the other boys seems awfully loud in the stairwell, Youngjae and Yugyeom joking around at a higher volume than they usually do, and the six of them trying to cover for Jinyoung just pisses him off a little more. “C’mon, Jinyoung-ah. You’re really going to wear that to the club? It’s cold outside.”

Finally, Jinyoung turns around, his arm moving from Mark’s shoulders to the older boy’s waist. Jaebum’s eyes follow the movement involuntarily, his stomach stirring. “I’m fine.” Jinyoung watches his face for a moment, as if he’s calculating. A moment later he follows up with, “are you really going to wear  _ that?”  _

Jaebum raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with this?” 

“We’re going to the club, not a party on campus.” 

He doesn’t know if he’s antagonizing Jinyoung because he wants to or if it’s because it’s getting him more of a reaction than he’s gotten in weeks, but either way he keeps going. 

Jaebum smiles. Mocking Jinyoung’s tone of voice, Jaebum snaps back at him. “We’re going to the club, not the whorehouse.”

The look on Jinyoung’s face slips for a moment, and the chatter in the stairwell comes to an uncomfortable halt as Jaebum’s comment sinks in. But then Jinyoung is just pulling a face and rolling his eyes, turning his back to Jaebum and continuing his conversation with Mark as though he’d never spoken. Unfortunately for Jinyoung, however, Jaebum has known him for long enough to recognize the angry tension in his slim shoulders. The burn of satisfaction lasts barely a moment, leaving him feeling strangely empty when it goes.

  
  
  


The small car is loud with all seven of them packed into it, and he has an easier time ignoring Jinyoung’s presence when he’s smashed in between Youngjae and Yugyeom, who loudly talk across him and drag him into a conversation he’s largely not a part of. He’s still acutely aware of Jinyoung’s position in the car, claiming the front seat next to one of their managers, who converses with him quietly. Every so often Jinyoung’s phone chimes, the screen lighting up when he checks it. From where he’s sitting, Jaebum can see the smile that pulls up the younger boy’s mouth at the corner, and he discreetly tries to crane his neck to see who Jinyoung might be talking to. 

_ Like it matters,  _ Jaebum says to himself, and slumps back in the seat mildly ashamed.

When they finally arrive at the club a few minutes later, he cringes when Bambam lets out the loudest  _ whoop!  _ before opening the door and they all file out after him. There’s already a line built up outside, but most of the people standing in it don’t really look at them. Which is a blessing, considering that they left all their security at home, but with the rest of them decked out and heavily made up, they should be fine. Being famous has it's perks and despite the people in line not looking up at them when they’d all filed out of the car, the owner of the club happens to be next to the bouncer when they approach the door and he welcomes them in with a wide sweep of his arm. 

The inside of the club is dark, a posh lobby spread out before them with a beautifully lit glass bar on the right and lounge chairs scattered in various places on the black carpet. Beyond the lobby is the dance floor, with another long bar spanning the entire left side of the wall that has the same back-lit glass display as the smaller one in the lobby. Colored bottles line the shelves in the hundreds, throwing colored shadows across the bartenders’ heads and the shining, black surface of the bar. It seems like the boys’ choice of black attire was purposeful: most of the club is painted in shades of black, with the DJ booth at the very back of the dance floor offering the only other pop of vibrant, neon color besides the bottles behind the bars. There’s colored lights in the ceiling, throwing more shadows across the sea of bodies in shades of blood red, green, and blue. 

He can barely hear the other boys chattering excitedly amongst each other over the EDM blaring through the speakers on the dance floor, so he moves a bit closer to hear what Bambam is currently trying to shout over the noise. Huddled together, all of their faces close, Jaebum steals a glance at Jinyoung across from him and is startled when Jinyoung is already looking at him. Again, the expression in his eyes is unreadable, to the point where Jaebum’s discomfort tightens his chest and has him looking away.

“--so we should open a tab under one name and then just all pitch in later, sound good?” Bambam half shouts, looking around at everyone for confirmation. They all move to the bar in the lobby together, the seven of them spreading out and taking up most of the standing space. Jaebum purposefully stands next to Jinyoung, the younger boy stiffening but not looking over at him. Jaebum watches Jinyoung’s dark eyes smudged with glittering black eyeliner inspect the shelves as if he’s deciding on what he wants, although Jaebum already knows what he’s going to order.

“A shot of vodka and a glass of rosé to start, right?” Jaebum says, leaning on his elbows and closer to Jinyoung, who doesn’t look at him.

“Yeah,” he says, and Jaebum can’t help the way his stomach does something weird at the multi-colored shadows of the bottles illuminating Jinyoung’s dark eyes. “The usual.”

It’s so lackluster, and it kills him that the Jinyoung he grew up with seems to blocked off from him now, with no idea what he could have possibly done to deserve it. Something like confusion plagues him, but it’s uncomfortable, and it translates itself into the more familiar feeling of anger. “Jinyoung-ah,” he says, and there must be something in his voice, because Jinyoung actually looks at him, eyebrows stitched together. “Jinyoung-ah. Why are you ignoring me?”

A look passes over Jinyoung’s face and he looks away again, ordering his drinks before staring ahead at the bottles on display and answering. “I’m not ignoring you.”

His irritation spikes: he wants to shout at him, but he tries to hold it back in favor of maybe getting some answers. He doesn’t know why he feels so desperate, but he does, and it’s driving him nuts. Add that on top of being weirdly angry and upset about it and he’s starting to feel a little irrational. “Yes, you are.”

This time Jinyoung seems annoyed, and he scoffs a little bit. The bartender passes his drinks along the counter, and Jinyoung downs them both quickly. He wipes a hand across his mouth before ordering two more. “We’re having a conversation right now, aren’t we?” 

Jaebum rolls his eyes, which Jinyoung notices, and it seems to only piss the younger boy off even more. “You know what I meant,” Jaebum says, already feeling defeated that this conversation didn’t go the way he’d hoped it would.

When the bartender passes Jinyoung more drinks, Jinyoung downs those, too, and Jaebum watches the shudder that passes over him with a sigh building in his chest. Jinyoung licks his lips, pushing away from the bar. “I don’t think I do,” he says, and then he’s turning and weaving through the throng of people in the lobby and disappearing. 

Yugyeom comes up to lean an elbow on Jaebum’s back where he’s leaning over the bar, ordering the strongest whiskey they’ve got in as many shots as they’ll let him have at once (which, much to his disappointment, is only two). The glass in Yugyeom’s hand rattles when he rests it in the middle of Jaebum’s shoulders. “What did you do to him, hyung?” 

Downing the shots angrily and asking for one more, the burn in his throat feels a lot like the anger in his chest and he pushes the glasses away from him a little roughly. “I have no fucking idea.” 

Yugyeom slaps a hand on his back, and if it’s supposed to be comforting, it isn’t. “But don’t you?” 

Jaebum leans up, turning to look at Yugyeom who just gives him a shit-eating grin that Jaebum wants to hit off his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Shrugging, the maknae downs the rest of his drink in one go and leans forward to slide the empty glass across the bar. He grabs Jaebum by the wrist, dragging him toward the dance floor. “Who knows. Let’s dance, hyung!”

The next hour passes by quickly, and the night starts to get more and more hazy as they dance. Jaebum and Yugyeom stay together for a while, drinking more and more shots halfway through, silently competing to see who can drink the most while still dancing the best. Jaebum feels sufficiently drunk a good hour and a half after they get there, his body loose, his laughter coming loudly and naturally as he dances with various members before they spin away and get lost in all the people. He dances with a lot of people he doesn’t know, girls and boys alike, and he loves it. Some of the boys he dances with are a bit grabby, and he knows it’s because he’s hot but he enjoys it; he’s never shied away from attention no matter who it comes from. The EDM that blasts through the speakers is fast paced and heavy, and he gets his hands all over whoever happens to be in front of him at any given time, faces blurring together. But the sensation is phenomenal, and his earlier anger is almost completely forgotten. 

The girl he’s currently dancing with is really good at it, her slim body moving gracefully against his, and the anger in his body wears away into something a little more carnal. He slides a hand down her back until it’s resting just above the curve of her ass, the rings on his fingers pressing into the skin where it shows through the cut in her dress. Jaebum swallows, eyes flicking to her mouth and down the line of her collarbone before looking back up. Her dark eyes stay locked on his, smudged in black kohl very similar to a certain someone he knows. Jaebum swallows hard, and the girl takes it as a good sign: she presses closer until they’re chest to chest, but instead of latching onto him she just leans up to kiss his cheek. She drags a hand across his chest as she leaves as though she’s reluctant to let go, Jaebum watching her disappear back into the crowd, until there’s a hand replacing hers on his chest. The alcohol is really starting to hit now, his reaction slow, and he wraps an arm around the waist of whoever is trying to get up against him before looking at who it is.

Jinyoung’s eyes are already on his when he finally turns his head, and the contrast between the girl’s makeup and his is startling: she looked sweet and pretty while Jinyoung’s eyes look dangerous. Jaebum moves to let go as though this happened by accident, but Jinyoung just reaches up and locks his arms around Jaebum’s neck, their bodies flush together for the first time in forever. 

The memory comes back to him slow, but he remembers a similar situation once where he and Jinyoung had snuck out of the dorms when it was just the two of them and they’d been debuted for a few months, finding their way to a party that they shouldn’t have been at and indulging in more underage drinking than they should have. He remembers the way that they’d stumbled back to the dorm together, laughing and loudly trying to shush each other, though the streets at three am were dimly lit and empty. Jaebum remembers the way that Jinyoung had almost fallen when they’d gotten back to their dorm; he remembers the way that he’d yanked Jinyoung back into him and then they were suddenly kissing, desperate and messy like their lives depended on it. It was such a strange time in his life; he hadn’t known what he wanted, really, didn’t know what he’d liked, but Jinyoung had done things with his mouth that a seventeen year old Jaebum didn’t think anyone else could live up to, ever. The image of himself laying over Jinyoung, the way they made out for hours on the couch until Jinyoung started to fall asleep underneath him, lips swollen and pretty, is still so clear to him. He remembers the way he’d gone into his bedroom and fallen asleep grinning like a damn fool.

He remembers the way he woke up the next morning in a panic, ignoring Jinyoung for weeks after until finally it seemed that they’d gotten over it and he could push the memory all the way down. He remembers how it never really left.

Jaebum comes back to himself sluggishly, his eyes meeting Jinyoung’s under the blood red light above their heads. There’s a distant surprise that has him wanting to push Jinyoung away, but the alcohol swimming in his blood only makes him tighten his arm around Jinyoung’s waist when Jinyoung’s fingers brush against the back of his neck. Jaebum shudders, mouth falling open like he’s going to say something, but he gets distracted by the way Jinyoung’s eyes look under the light: sharper than they should be for someone that he’s sure is just as drunk if not more so than he is, with an edge to them like there’s a fight or a fuck brewing. Jaebum’s stomach warms when he realizes he can’t actually tell which. 

The music is pounding, the rhythm keeping his hips moving, and he puts his other hand on Jinyoung’s waist to keep him from pulling away. Jaebum can feel the bass in his feet, vibrating up his legs and into his waist and into his chest, and the feeling combined with Jinyoung dancing against him is incredible. He can feel the sweat where it collects at his temples under his hat and trails down the sides of his face, and he watches as Jinyoung follows the line of it as the sweat drips down his neck and disappears into his collar. When Jinyoung’s eyes flick back up to his they’re half-lidded, the look in them still dangerous but tinged with something heady, and Jaebum’s heart skips a beat. The beat changes, slowing down to something a little bit dirtier, and he feels his heart start to pound as Jinyoung changes his rhythm accordingly. The younger boy tightens his grip around Jaebum’s neck, pulling himself as close as possible until Jaebum can feel the press of the metal from the zippers on Jinyoung’s pants against the exposed skin of his thighs. Heat pools in his stomach, his breath hitching, and he bites down hard on his lower lip when Jinyoung rolls his hips forward. 

Their hips connect, and Jaebum can feel the hard line of Jinyoung’s dick through his pants when he does it, the feeling snatching the breath that he tries to exhale right out of his mouth. He moves his arm to put his hands on Jinyoung’s hips, the revealing material of his shirt bunching when Jaebum slides his hands up. Jinyoung’s skin is hot underneath his palms, slick with sweat, and Jaebum feels a shudder run down his spine at the feeling of it; wants to see it with his eyes and taste it with his mouth. Jinyoung’s eyes close at the touch, lips parting, and the younger tips his head back to reveal the long line of his unmarked throat as he rolls and sways his hips right against Jaebum’s, their erections brushing in a way that feels so violently good that Jaebum wants to scream. He can’t look away from Jinyoung’s neck, the whole room seeming to slow down and fade out until it’s just him and Jinyoung, neck exposed like an offering, and Jaebum feels so, so tempted to take it. Jaebum’s mouth dries out when Jinyoung swallows, watching the line of his throat as it bobs, contemplating whether or not to lick up the sweat that runs down the skin when Jinyoung finally looks back at him.

His dark eyes are still dangerous, impossibly alluring, but there’s a new edge to them now, one that Jaebum’s drunk mind can’t wrap around. His face is slightly drawn up like he’s in pain, but the smile that pulls up one corner of his mouth sends the concern fleeing. Jinyoung’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and Jaebum can’t take it anymore: he leans down, intending to cover Jinyoung’s mouth with his own, but Jinyoung turns his head at the last second and Jaebum’s lips connect awkwardly with his jaw instead. 

“What––” Jaebum says, loudly enough to be heard, but then Jinyoung is grabbing his wrists where he’s still holding him at the waist and pushing away from him. His face is hidden when he turns, frantically pushing past the people packed in close around them, and Jaebum stands dumbfounded watching him go until finally the crowd swallows him and he disappears. His legs feel shaky as he fights his way to the bar, leaning on it heavily as he tries to get his breathing back to normal. The whisky the bartender slides him barely burns now, his drunk thoughts scattered as he tries to piece together what just happened and why he feels so fucked up about Jinyoung pushing him away at the last minute. 

The bartender seems to pick up on his stress, and Jaebum gratefully takes the water that gets passed to him across the counter. He drinks all of it in one go, and he feels someone touch his back when he finishes it, turning to them as he sets the glass down. It’s Youngjae, looking a bit tired and sweaty, but his eyebrows are drawn up in concern when Jaebum looks at him.

“Hyung, are you okay?” 

_ I don’t know.  _ “Yes, why?”

Youngjae narrows his eyes a little bit, and it’s clear that, out of all them, he’s probably the least drunk. “You don’t seem okay.”

Does he really look that messed up on the outside? Jaebum knows he’s drunk but he’d never  _ say  _ it, and he usually holds his alcohol pretty well. It’s hot in the club with the amount of people packed into it, and he’s definitely been sweating. But does he really look  _ not okay?  _ He tries to school his features into a casual look. “What do you mean?”

“Honestly?” Youngjae asks, and continues when Jaebum nods, “you look like you’re going to be sick.”

The thing about getting drunk is, the filter he normally has vanishes the more he drinks, and at this point he’s lost count of how many he’s had. He doesn’t really mean to lean into Youngjae and tell him, but he can’t stop himself. “I was just dancing with Jinyoung.”

Youngjae leans back, brows furrowed. “Really? Because I just saw him with–”

Before he can finish, Jackson suddenly appears and slaps the younger boy on the back. Youngjae looks startled, throwing Jackson a look; Jackson returns it, like he’s trying to say  _ shut up, idiot  _ with his eyes. Unfortunately for them, though, drunk or not, Jaebum is terribly observant and he catches every moment of the suspicious interaction. “You saw him doing what?”

Youngjae suddenly looks a bit ashamed, and he glances at Jackson again, who’s angled away from Jaebum but he  _ knows  _ Jackson is making a face at him. “Ahh, hyung, it’s nothing–”

He’s tired of it. He’s tired of Jinyoung’s attitude, the way he’s been ignoring Jaebum for weeks; he’s tired of the rest of them covering for him and even though they aren’t actively choosing sides, it feels like the five of them are on the side that isn’t is. Jaebum gets a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, turning him so that both he and Youngjae are facing him. They both look anxious, their eyes going from Jaebum’s face to somewhere on the dance floor. He’s tempted to turn and see what they’re looking at, but he’s drunk and he’s angry and he’s not leaving them without getting some answers.

“I’m serious. Just tell me. I’m sick of all of you covering for him.”

Jackson and Youngjae exchange another look, and then Jackson finally slumps his shoulders, defeated. “Fine. You want to know what he was going to say?”

Youngjae looks nervous, wringing his hands a little. “Hyung, we’re just trying to protect you–”

_ Protect me? What does that mean?  _ Angrily, “just spit it out.”

Jackson looks him in the eyes, and then he finally just shrugs. “Jinyoungie is here with Hyungwoo hyung. They’re on the dance floor somewhere.”

_ Hyunwoo––what?  _ Jaebum barely catches the concerned look Youngjae and Jackson share before he turns around, one hand steadying himself on the bar. He doesn’t see them at first, the edges of his vision fuzzy and the bodies on the dance floor all blurring together as they thrust and sway in unison. He’s about to give up and ask them if they’re kidding when–there. His heart stutters and stops before kicking up into a faster pace when he notices Hyunwoo’s loosely tousled hair and soft smile.

Wrapped around his neck is Jinyoung, pressed up against the taller boy like they’re glued together. Jaebum feels like the wind is knocked out of him when Jinyoung smiles, open and genuine and flirty. He remembers when Jinyoung would smile at him like that, most of his face hidden shyly in his shoulder. Jaebum hadn’t really understood the fluttering in his chest, then, at the smile he’d thought had been reserved for him. But he understands it now, and a thousand and one things come back to him as he watches Jinyoung roll his slim body against Hyunwoo’s not that far away from where he’s trying to keep himself vertical at the bar. Jaebum feels like he’s been doused in ice water: he wants to look away, but his gaze feels locked on where Hyunwoo’s large hand trails down Jinyoung’s side and down to the small of his back, holding him in place. Hadn’t Jaebum  _ just  _ been doing this exact same thing to him a little bit ago, or had he dreamt it? The idea that he would  _ dream  _ something like that happening to him makes his breath catch uncertainly. There’s a sharp feeling in his chest, a lopsided piece of glass wedged in between his ribs as he watches the look on Hyunwoo’s face change from a bright, charming smile to a heavy one, eyes on Jinyoung’s face, his body, his mouth. All the same places that Jaebum had let his eyes rest when he thought nobody was looking. The hooded look in Jinyoung’s eyes and his lower lip pulled between his teeth has Jaebum’s stomach rolling painfully: the image of Jinyoung looking at him like this, hands locked behind his neck, pressed together by choice and by the sea of bodies around them, is too clear and vivid even in his drunk mind to have been imagined. He wonders what it means that seeing Jinyoung pull Hyunwoo down to whisper in his ear makes him feel like fighting. 

The look on Hyunwoo’s face changes again, from the heaviness of lust to something stronger, like desire, as Jinyoung hides his face against the older boy’s ear. Jinyoung hand is wrapped around his neck, the other probably somewhere around his waist, and when Hyunwoo leans down to whisper back, hand still in the small of Jinyoung’s back where  _ his  _ hands should be, he turns away. 

He pretends his hands aren’t shaking when he looks at Jackson and Youngjae again, who both have matching looks of sympathy on their faces. Jaebum wishes they would stop. “I think we should all go home.”

They look at each other again, seemingly to have a silent conversation, and Jaebum fidgets nervously. The two of them seem to have some sort of telepathy going on tonight, and with all the conflicting and torn up emotions roiling inside him right now, it annoys him. Finally, Jackson disappears back into the crowd and Youngjae just gently takes Jaebum’s arm, starting to lead him along the bar to the edge of the dance floor. “Do you want to dance some more while Jackson goes to find every body?”

“Not really,” Jaebum says, but his eyes are already scanning the room for someone to dance with. He spots a girl who looks like the one he’d been dancing with earlier, and he’s tempted to go out into the crowd and dance with her when Youngjae grabs his arm. He looks at it, amazed at how much anger at someone he considers a little brother the action strikes up in him. Youngjae seems to sense this, making a hurt face and letting go. Jaebum wants to apologize, but the words stick the the roof of his mouth along with all the other things he wants to say and he stays quiet.

After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Jackson comes to find them and tells them all the boys are waiting outside for the car. Jaebum realizes how  _ drunk  _ he is: Youngjae has to keep a hand on his arm to prevent him from tripping over his feet or falling into people, and he’s more so being  _ dragged  _ than he is really walking on his own. He misses the sympathetic (and simultaneously disappointed) look Youngjae throws his way as he stumbles through the lobby of the club, his drunk brain already trying to come up with something to say to Jinyoung when they, inevitably, make eye contact while waiting for the car. The cold wind that brushes against his face as they go to stand with the other boys is pleasant, and he revels in the way it cools his burning cheeks and clears his head a bit. 

Opening his eyes, he looks around for a confused moment before realizing they’re one short. “Where’s Jinyoung-ah?”

No one says anything at first, and he’s about to get angry at them for covering again when Mark shifts awkwardly on his feet. He lets his dirty blonde hair fall into his eyes when he says, “he’ll be home later. He said he’s going to stay out with Hyunwoo hyung.”

The news hits him like a punch in the gut, and Jaebum has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from puking on the sidewalk.

  
  
  
  
  


No one says a word to him on the ride back to the dorms, and he’s eternally grateful for it as he jumps from the car first and slams his way into his bedroom, alone.

The weird rollercoaster of emotions currently tearing through him is making him feel more ill than the alcohol is, and he’s frustrated at how he can’t seem to pick a single emotion and focus on it. Anger is easy: he’s good at being angry, but the anger seems to be backed up by something uglier, like jealousy, and he desperately tries to to push it all away as he strips down to his boxers and throws himself on his bed.

He half listens as the other boys come in the apartment, talking lowly and banging around quietly as they all get ready for bed. There’s barely a sliver of moonlight slicing it's way through the darkness of his room through the small opening in the curtains, and he keeps his eyes on it while he tries to clear everything else from his mind: the memories, the fighting, Jinyoung ignoring him, Jinyoung pulling him close on the dance floor, Jinyoung turning away when Jaebum  _ finally  _ found the courage to kiss him.

He flips onto his side angrily, staring at the wall instead, feeling the room spin even though he’s laying still. Jaebum can’t think of a time he’s ever been really actively jealous of  _ anyone– _ he finds himself being a bit jealous at some of the members who have siblings, maybe, but not to the point where it had ever made him  _ angry,  _ or to the point where he feels like he’s going to grind his teeth to dust with how hard he’s clenching his jaw. Jealousy isn’t really an emotion that he’s familiar with, per se, but it belatedly occurs to him that all the times he’d ever been jealous were because they had to do with Jinyoung. He’d always scowled at hyungs who paid a lot of attention to Jinyoung, and felt even worse when Jinyoung played into it. He’d been jealous of the way Jinyoung was always accepting drinks at bars when they did go out, jealous of the way Jinyoung had seemed to always draw eyes wherever they went; jealous of the way that the looks on men’s faces would change when Jinyoung would smile at them a certain way.

Groaning, Jaebum flips onto his stomach and shoves his head underneath his pillow, hoping that he either falls asleep soon or just suffocates. He’s granted the former, falling into a fitful sleep filled with dreams that parade across his eyelids in so rapid a succession that, upon waking up to noise a few hours later, he can’t recall any of them.

Pushing up on his elbows, he blinks sleepily into the darkness of his room. The clock by his bed reads 3:07AM, which means he’s probably only been asleep since midnight or so. The other boys sleep like the dead (he’s definitely dropped an entire set of pans before at 4am making ramen and no one even seemed to roll over in their sleep), so he’s not surprised at the near silence of the dorms when he comes to a little bit more. He’s about to lay back down where there’s a steady, quiet thumping against the wall of his bedroom, and he freezes when he realizes that’s what had woken him up.

Still a bit drunk, the sound makes him a little frightened. The rhythmic pounding sounds ominous, and his heart starts to pound a little bit. He squeezes his eyes shut, listening, and it’s only then that he hears the sound of someone’s breath coming unevenly, barely controlled moans filling up the silence between thumps. Underneath that he can hear the unmistakable creak of a bed frame, and it’s with a sudden and abject horror that he realizes that Jinyoung is getting fucked in his room  _ right next door.  _

He goes numb, frozen where he’s still laying on his stomach and pushed up on his elbows with his face turned toward the wall. Now that he’s more awake he can hear the distinct sound of Jinyoung’s voice as he moans, unabashedly and like he’s not even trying to quiet the sound of it in a pillow. It’s muffled a bit through the wall, but Jaebum can hear how much he’s enjoying it, the little gasps and whines coming through just as crystal clear as if he was standing in the room. Jaebum just lays there, whole body stiff with anger, stomach tightening with jealously and something else. It almost makes it worse that he can’t hear Hyunwoo’s voice over Jinyoung’s pathetic whining and begging, barely intelligible filth pouring from his mouth and  _ Jesus Christ  _ he sounds like a prostitute with how dirty it is. He’s trying to block it out, eyes squeezed shut and face in his pillow, but Jinyoung’s drunk, desperate moaning is turning him on and he has to try really hard to ignore how hard he’s getting. It just gets worse the longer it goes on, Jinyoung just taking it and loving  _ every second of it,  _ and Jaebum’s breaking point finally comes when he hears Hyunwoo’s deep voice over the noises Jinyoung’s making, 

“Ah, Jinyoungie, feels so good–”

His heart stutters and stops for a good second at Hyunwoo’s voice uttering Jaebum’s nickname for him like it’s breaking him apart, voice shaking like Jaebum’s should be, not his. It’s not that the nickname inherently belongs to him–the other boys call him Jinyoung all the time. But in it's way it does belong to him, because it means something entirely different when he says it, and hearing Hyunwoo say it in the way Jaebum wants to be saying it has rage flooding his chest like water out of a dam. He’s up out of his bed in a flash, nearly tearing his door off the hinges with how hard he yanks it open, immediately pounding on Jinyoung’s door.

He knows he should be a little quieter about it, since Youngjae’s room is directly across the hall, but he’s spared from doing it a second time when he hears the noise in Jinyoung’s room cease and then taken up again in the form of frantic, hushed whispering. Jaebum’s heart pounds and he’s about to turn back around and go into his room when the door opens, Jinyoung’s head sticking out in the gap between the door and the frame, looking at him in the dim light of the hallway.

“Yes?”

Jaebum just stares at him––Jinyoung looks ravished, his face flushed, sweat plastering strands of his dark hair to his temples and his forehead and sticking up wildly where, he guesses, Hyunwoo had a hand fisted in it. Jinyoung’s eyes are heavy, borderline annoyed, and his mouth is full; bruised, so swollen, still shining with spit. Jaebum’s stomach bottoms out and he tries to say something, anything, can’t find any words looking at Jinyoung’s face like this. Finally, the younger boy reaches up to snap his fingers in front of Jaebum’s eyes. 

“Hello? Earth to Jaebum.”

Jaebum comes back to himself, face flushing. He desperately tries to keep his eyes on Jinyoung’s face, but the younger boy opens the door a little bit wider to lean on the frame and Jaebum makes the mistake of glancing down at his bare chest. It’s covered in bites and marks. From Hyunwoo.

He swallows. Trying to school his features, he puts every ounce of annoyance he can into his voice and hope it doesn’t sound as shaky as he thinks it does. “You’re being  _ really  _ fucking loud.”

Jinyoung  _ smirks  _ at him. Actually  _ smirks  _ at him, like he  _ knows,  _ and like he’s proud of himself. Jinyoung sways a little in the doorway, still drunk. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s not, and Jaebum knows it.  
  
“You probably shouldn’t do that here,” Jaebum says, voice thin, hands balled into fists at his sides. 

“I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

Jaebum nods his head in the direction of Jinyoung’s dark bedroom, where Hyunwoo is probably laid across the bed listening to them, waiting for Jinyoung to come back so they can finish. Jaebum grinds his teeth. “I can’t sleep if you’re going to be this loud.”

And then Jinyoung grins, so devilish and handsome and awful. He opens the door even more, angling his body into the light, knowing Jaebum will look. And he does; he looks down at the way Jinyoung is holding up boxers too big to be his with one hand, the waistband slipping down to reveal the unmarked bone of his hip and the curve of his perfect ass. Jaebum swallows uncertainly, looking away. He looks back up at Jinyoung, unsure what to say but knows he wants to say something awful, but Jinyoung beats him to it:

Voice as sweet and thick as honey, Jinyoung says, “then maybe you should join us.”

Jaebum’s heart skips, stops, beats faster. The look on Jinyoung’s face is pure trouble, his hand fisted loosely in the boxers around his waist like he’s going to drop them any second. He hates himself so much for considering it, hates even more the way he imagines getting his hands on Jinyoung’s body, and God, he must still be drunk with the way he bites his lip at the thought of how easily he could have Jinyoung right now. But the image shatters when he imagines Hyunwoo’s hands over his, or touching some other part of Jinyoung, not knowing if the sounds of pleasure that would be pulled from him would because of Jaebum or Hyunwoo. So despite the sweat that sticks his shirt to his back, his face turns cold. 

“You wish, you slut,” he spits, not missing the surprised and potentially hurt look on Jinyoung’s face before he turns and storms off down the hallway. He throws himself down on the couch, where he proceeds to fall into an angry, restless sleep plagued by dreams of Jinyoung underneath him.

  
  
  


The next morning when he wakes up, the house is mercifully silent. The other boys must have gone somewhere, and he’s a little amazed that they managed to get through the living room without waking him up at all. He inhales deeply, blissfully alone to nurture his hangover and try to forget every single thing that happened last night in peace. Jaebum grabs tea from the fridge and goes to his room to pull on some joggers before curling up on the couch, flipping aimlessly through the channels on TV for a solid ten minutes when he hears someone come softly down the hallway.

Without even looking, he knows who it is. He wonders distantly if that’s a side effect of being in such close proximity for so many years, or if it’s the result of something else, being able to sense Jinyoung’s presence in a room. Jaebum doesn’t glance over, can see Jinyoung fully dressed and standing in the mouth of the hallway in the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything to him. He continues to aimlessly flip through channels as Jinyoung hovers in the hallway, as though he’s waiting on Jaebum to acknowledge him, in which case he’s in for a surprise. Jinyoung stands there for a long time: five minutes, then ten, and it’s bordering on fifteen when Jaebum starts to prickle under the weight of Jinyoung’s gaze on the side of his face. 

Jinyoung seems to finally tire of just standing there, and his voice is quiet when he speaks. “Hyung?” 

Jaebum doesn’t look over at him, his own voice purposefully cold and disinterested. “What?” 

“Hyung, about last night––” 

Jaebum’s heart starts to pound but he doesn’t look over, doesn’t really want to have this conversation. Jinyoung wants to ignore him and tease him and fuck whoever he gets his hands on, anyone but Jaebum, and that’s fine. Whatever. But Jaebum doesn’t want to hear about it.

He snorts. “No, thanks.”

Jinyoung’s voice is thin with barely controlled annoyance. “I’m serious, Jaebum. I want to say I’m sorry, Hyunwoo hyung feels really bad––”

Finally Jaebum looks over at him, face drawn up in mild disgust. “Why? If you want to let Hyunwoo fuck you, why should I care?” 

Jinyoung’s face goes quiet, face pale, but then a red blush creeps up his neck and spreads across his face to the tops of his ears. Angry now, the younger boy crosses his arms. “Oh, so you’re saying you don’t care?” 

“No,” Jaebum spits, and even though it’s a lie, he puts as much feeling into it as possible to make it believable. “I don’t care that you fuck everyone.” 

Jinyoung laughs, but it’s bitter and awful sounding, lacking humor and warmth. “‘Fuck everyone’? What, like you’re any better? How many girls have you hooked up with?” 

Anger pounds through his blood and he jumps up off the couch, but is unsure what to do when he’s standing. “Not as many as you, I’m sure.” 

The smile that spreads on Jinyoung’s face is cruel, a twin of the one from last night when Jaebum had knocked on his door. “That’s true, because I don’t fuck girls, and I don’t fuck guys, either.” The smiles widens.  _ “They  _ fuck  _ me.” _

Jaebum’s stomach drops, turns to stone. His hands start to shake, and he shoves them into the pockets of his joggers to hide them. This wasn’t the way he’d imagined this conversation going––in fact, he hadn’t imagined this conversation happening at all, and that alone makes it feel more and more like it’s slipping out of control. Jinyoung’s shoulders are taut with tension where he’s standing a few feet away, form fitting shirt tucked into jeans cuffed at the ankles. His heartbeat has taken off, from anxiety and something else, and he replies lamely, “yeah, well. What a surprise.”

“Yeah?” Jinyoung says hotly, chest heaving with the short breaths he takes when he’s really angry. “Yeah? That doesn’t surprise you?” 

Jaebum lifts and drops a shoulder. “No,” he says, cocking an eyebrow and looking at Jinyoung with a heavily feigned disinterest. “It doesn’t.”

“And why’s that?” 

“You know why,” he says, Jaebum’s mouth turning up in the cruelest of smiles, happy to finally have the upper hand. He’s satisfied by the defiant and nervous glint in Jinyoung’s eyes now. “Because you’re a slut.”

Jinyoung’s overconfident demeanor drops for a moment, satisfaction flaring hot in his chest at the sight of it. But then it comes back, Jinyoung smiling so hard his eyes crinkle, but it’s sharper than a knife’s blade. A deadly laugh fills the space between them. “I might be a slut, but I’d never let  _ you  _ fuck me.” Jinyoung cocks his head. “What does that say about you?” 

The way he looks at Jaebum when he says it, emphasizes the  _ you  _ like he’s not worth it, not good enough, makes his heart take a dive and he grinds his teeth in barely controlled anger. He takes a step closer to Jinyoung, who steps back; his back hits the wall but Jaebum steps closer, hands still in his pockets to keep himself from hitting that smile off his face. He leans in closer, eyes on Jinyoung’s. “You couldn’t handle the way I’d fuck you.” 

Jaebum is well in his space now; Jinyoung swallows but doesn’t back down. “So you’ve thought about fucking me?” Jinyoung smiles wider when Jaebum feels the look on his face slip a little. “Sounds like  _ you’re _ the one who couldn’t handle it, since you had to interrupt and then fall asleep on the couch.”

Jinyoung smirks, triumphant, and Jaebum’s had enough. He pulls both hands out of his pockets and fists them in Jinyoung’s shirt, yanking the younger boy up closer to his face. Roughly, he says, “you really want to do this?” 

Jinyoung’s face scrunches angrily, getting both his hands up on Jaebum’s chest and shoving hard. Jaebum stumbles backward, a little surprised, fleetingly thinking,  _ this is it, we’re really going to fight this time, and no one’s here to stop up from hurting each other _ . He loses his grip on Jinyoung’s shirt but when Jinyoung steps forward to shove him again he’s expecting it, and he grabs Jinyoung’s wrist; he deftly bends his arm behind his back and shoves him against the wall, wedging his thigh up between Jinyoung’s legs to keep him pinned in place. They’re both worked up and breathing hard, Jaebum’s chest brushing Jinyoung’s back as he breathes.

“Answer me,” he says quietly, mouth at Jinyoung’s ear. “You really want to do this?” 

When Jinyoung doesn’t answer, Jaebum presses his body up against Jinyoung’s back. He wonders if Jinyoung can feel how crazily his heart is beating against his shoulders. He presses closer, bodies touching, his hips flush with Jinyoung’s ass and  _ fuck,  _ it feels good, the both of them worked up and a little desperate. Jinyoung is apparently enjoying being pinned to the wall with his arm bent behind his back by Jaebum’s hand; when Jaebum shifts his thigh up into Jinyoung’s crotch, the younger boy hiccups on a moan. 

It’s so fucking hot, Jinyoung enjoying this, his mouth drying out when Jinyoung shifts and grinds his ass against Jaebum’s crotch, dick hard. Jaebum pushes even closer, other hand next to Jinyoung’s head on the wall, his hips pinning Jinyoung to the wall now, too. He leans in, mouth on Jinyoung’s ear, heat pooling in his stomach when Jinyoung whimpers under his breath. “You wanna do this, don’t you?” 

Jinyoung doesn’t answer, being purposefully disobedient, but Jaebum knows it’s a yes by the way Jinyoung rolls his hips looking for friction. Then––Jinyoung nods, imperceptibly, but Jaebum catches it. He adjusts his grip on Jinyoung’s wrist and pulls him roughly away from the wall, walking him down the hallway to his bedroom with his arm still pinned behind his back. 

Jaebum leans past him to push open the door to his room, letting go of Jinyoung’s wrist once they’re inside and turning to lock the door behind them. Jinyoung is watching him by the bed when Jaebum leans against the door to look him up and down.

“Strip,” he says, voice deep and commanding.

Jinyoung hesitates, fingers curled under the hem of his shirt like he’s about to yank it off.

“NOW,” Jaebum barks, and then Jinyoung is biting his lip and flushing a deeper red. Jinyoung pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, blush spreading down his chest and Jaebum’s chest tightens at how beautiful it is. Jinyoung’s jeans come next, and he’s about to pull down his boxers when Jaebum steps forward to grab his wrists. Jinyoung looks up at him, the expression in them hitting him like a kick in the stomach. His eyes are are half lidded and heavy, clouded with a lust so fucking strong Jaebum can almost smell it on him. Grinning, Jaebum spins him around and gets him on the bed, ordering Jinyoung to get up on his hands and knees.

“Jaebum-ah,” Jinyoung breathes, voice quivering, pushing himself up on all fours with Jaebum on his knees behind him.

Jaebum doesn’t answer, instead yanking his own shirt up off over his head and then less-than-gently pulling Jinyoung’s boxers down to mid thigh. He winds back, slapping Jinyoung’s bare ass, satisfaction and desire pooling in his gut when Jinyoung jerks a bit and moans. Jaebum leans forward, folding himself over Jinyoung’s bare back, their skin touching and lighting up Jaebum’s nerve endings like a bonfire. He grabs Jinyoung’s chin with one hand, and he can tell by the flush on his cheeks and the sweat at his hairline that he’s loving this, loves being manhandled like this by Jaebum. He lightly trails two of his fingers across Jinyoung’s bottom lip, Jinyoung’s mouth opening underneath the touch, greedy and desperate. Jaebum slips two of his fingers in, rolling his hips against Jinyoung’s ass so the boy under him can feel how hard he is. “Suck,” Jaebum orders him, biting his own bottom lip when Jinyoung obediently starts sucking on his fingers. The sensation travels up his arm, spreading warmth into his chest, and he has to hold back a moan at the way Jinyoung watches him from under his eyelashes while he presses his tongue against Jaebum’s fingers filling his mouth. Jaebum pulls his fingers from Jinyoung’s mouth and can’t stop the groan this time that escapes him at the feeling of it, dick achingly hard in his boxers, feeling just as desperate as Jinyoung. He trails his wet fingers down Jinyoung’s back until he reaches his ass and starts to fuck Jinyoung open with them. Jinyoung’s breath punches out of him, and he drops down on his forearms to get a better angle; the sound of Jinyoung’s whimpers and moans enough to almost drive him to the edge. Jaebum pulls his hand away, leaning back and clumsily grabbing the lube still sitting on Jinyoung’s nightstand, unashamed. He pushes his joggers down around his thighs before he slicks himself up, shuddering at the feeling of it, and his stomach burns when he sees Jinyoung watching him from over his shoulder. Jaebum grabs Jinyoung’s hips, pulling him back slow, his dick teasingly sliding in between Jinyoung’s thighs. The younger boy moans, quivering. 

“Jaebum-ah,” Jinyoung pants, voice breaking when Jaebum lines up and pushes in, torturously slow. His eyes close, arms shaking, rolling his hips when Jaebum doesn’t start moving right away. His name coming from Jinyoung’s mouth, broken like this, makes his chest feel light. “Jaebum-ah, what are we doing?”

Jaebum thrusts up, hard, pleased when Jinyoung shouts. “You want to act like a slut?” Jaebum pants, though it’s less harsh than he intends it to be. He runs a hand up Jinyoung’s bare back to his neck, wrapping his fingers around the base of his skull. “Then I’m going to fuck you like one.” 

Jinyoung just shudders, burying his face in his arms on the bed and letting Jaebum hold him down by the neck and fuck into him from behind. He goes slow at first, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back in to the base, his hips flush with Jinyoung’s ass. Jinyoung starts to beg, voice high pitched and whining, and Jaebum picks up the pace until he’s thrusting into Jinyoung so hard the bed frame creaks. The rhythm he sets is punishing, the sound of their skin coming together almost loud enough to be heard over the filth pouring from Jinyoung’s mouth. Begging,  _ Jaebum-ah, harder, do it harder, please, deeper;  _ whining, stringing together half formed sentences and swears like he’s delirious. Jaebum can’t believe how good this feels, how  _ right:  _ fucking Jinyoung like this and Jinyoung loving every second of it, crying for him to fuck harder or fuck deeper, whimpering for Jaebum to touch him or let him touch himself  _ please, hyung, do it,  _ but Jaebum just squeezes the back of his neck and shushes him gently. 

Jaebum fucks him like this for a while, slapping his bare ass when he talks too much, biting his lip at the sight of his handprints on Jinyoung’s skin. Jinyoung is in the middle of saying something especially filthy when Jaebum pulls out, flipping Jinyoung onto his back and barely giving Jinyoung a moment to take a breath before he’s pushing back into him, hips snapping up.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung pants, eyes squeezed shut, both of his hands around the bars in his bed frame like he’s going to leave the earth if he doesn’t hold onto something. He manages to get his boxers all the way off, wrapping his legs around Jaebum’s waist. His hips lift off the bed, crying out when Jaebum grabs his ass and digs his fingers into the skin, angling so that Jaebum is driving into him unforgivingly. 

“Hyung, oh, god, hyung––” his voice is wrecked, eyes still closed and shaking where his legs are wrapped around Jaebum’s waist. 

“Look at me,” Jaebum says, his voice low and sultry and deep; Jinyoung opens his eyes immediately. “Keep your eyes on mine.”

Jinyoung watches him obediently, eyes locked on his and  _ Jesus,  _ it’s so intense he feels his hips stutter at the look on Jinyoung’s face: so adoring, like he worships the ground Jaebum walks on, and Jaebum leans down to kiss him.

Their mouths connect painfully, teeth clicking together with the force of it, but Jinyoung just moans into Jaebum’s mouth and reaches up to grab a fistful of Jaebum’s hair. He licks and bites at Jinyoung’s mouth, claiming it for his own, trying to erase any trace of any other boy that’s ever fucked Jinyoung before this. Jaebum pulls away, his stomach tightening, and he finally rewards Jinyoung’s patience with a rough hand around his dick. Jinyoung nearly sobs in relief, eyes closing and head tilting back to expose the long curve of his neck. He remembers what it was like in the club, wanting to get his mouth on it, and he leans down to mark it with his teeth like he’s been dying to do for years. Jaebum leans back up after sucking a painful mark into his throat, breath punching out of his chest with every violent thrust of his hips into Jinyoung.

“Look at me, Jinyoungie,” he says, voice rough, and the look in Jinyoung’s eyes when he finds Jaebum’s blows him wide open. “Look at me.”

“Okay, hyung,” Jinyoung pants, biting his lip, and then Jaebum is doing something with his hand that has Jinyoung arching his back off the bed and shouting.  _ “Fuck!  _ Jaebum-hyung,  _ please––” _

Still looking into Jinyoung’s eyes he increases the pressure on Jinyoung’s dick, jerking him off roughly but his voice calm. “Watch me,” Jaebum says, wanting to drink the sweat that pours down his face, down his neck, collecting in the dip of his collarbones. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Jaebum feels his hips stutter, speeding up, his orgasm building and building up in his stomach; Jinyoung panting and groaning like his is, too, and Jaebum smiles at him. “Come for me, beautiful,” he purrs, and Jinyoung does.

He comes across both their stomachs as soon as Jaebum asks, making the filthiest noise Jaebum’s ever heard when he does. The sound of it and the look of pure, unadulterated bliss on Jinyoung’s face is enough to have him spilling over the edge, his release so violently good he sees stars. He slows down a little after that, both of them working each other through their orgasms, until Jaebum pulls out and leans up on his knees to pull his joggers back up low on his hips. He throws Jinyoung a shirt laying on the ground, not looking to see who it belongs to, and he watches Jinyoung without saying anything. His chest feels light, satisfied; Jinyoung lets the shirt drop back to the floor and folds his arms behind his head, smiling at him. Jaebum rakes his eyes down Jinyoung’s body, admiring the way the marks of his mouth and his blunt fingernails look against the tan of Jinyoung’s skin. It’s not exactly the way he imagined this going––if he’s going to be honest with himself, he isn’t sure that this would have ever played out in any of the ways he imagined it when he was telling himself that’s not what he wanted (even though, in his heart of hearts, it’s  _ always  _ what he wanted). As he admires the marks he left on Jinyoung’s thighs, he thinks absently about how they might need to have a conversation to work out any lingering weirdness, considering Jinyoung was just ignoring him for weeks and then they had random, explosive sex after getting into an argument.

He’s going to express this, but the look on Jinyoung’s face when Jaebum looks up at him is unfairly soft. Jaebum’s chest flutters, but he covers up his nervousness with a smirk. “So, I couldn’t handle fucking you, huh?”

Jinyoung laughs, throwing a pillow at him, Jaebum grinning as he ducks away.

 

________

**Author's Note:**

> as always, edited just by me, so i may have missed something, so i'm sorry if i did!! 
> 
> ajjsfgzdklfgjldkfjg I' KNOW I JUST PUBLISHED SMTH LIKE A COUPLE DAYS ago im so sorry im so uglie, THANK U ALL FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME 
> 
> rafkld love you tho thank u to everyone who reads these and sends me nice comments on here!!!!!!!!!! i see them and try to reply to them all so that u kno i read ur comments and ur comments rly do mean the world to me ahhhhhhh <333 i love you all
> 
> -joe


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